


Cold Case

by OnTheTurningAway



Series: Mating Games - 2014 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Flash Fic, Humor, M/M, POV Sheriff Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 20:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1615346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnTheTurningAway/pseuds/OnTheTurningAway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing John needs after a long day on the job is a case file with Stiles' name all over it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Case

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bonus Challenge #1 at Mating Games, the Teen Wolf flash porn challenge, for the prompt: **A report comes across Sheriff Stilinski's desk...**.

It was well past quitting time when the sheriff placed a giant mug of coffee on his desk and dropped into his chair. He booted up his computer, determined to put a dent in the backlog of the previous week's reports. He had just pulled up the case log when he was distracted by a knock on his door.

"'Evening, Sheriff." 

John looked up to see Deputy Parrish poking his head into the office. "Hey, Parrish. Something I can do for you?"

"Uh, yes, sir." A flush bloomed on Parrish's cheeks. He scratched the back of his neck and shifted from foot to foot.

"Spit it out, Deputy," John said, patience already running low. "It's been a long day and I want to sign off on these reports so I can head out."

Parrish straightened up and John would have taken some pity on him if he wasn't so exhausted. On top of that, he had a mountain of paperwork to go through and he was trying to balance all of that with getting home before Stiles went to bed, in case he had a nightmare.

"The most recent report, sir," Parrish said. "Ah, I think you'll want to take a look at that one first. It might be something you'd like swept under the rug. On the QT, of course."

John narrowed his eyes at Parrish. He liked to do things by the book, at least as much as he could, now that he was in the know about all of the supernatural things going on in his town. After McCall's witch hunt, he wasn't about to ask for anything to be erased from the books, especially not when a brand new deputy was doing the offering. A man in John's position couldn't be too careful these days.

"Damn it." John took off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. "What's my kid done now, Parrish?"

"The suspect in the report fled the scene of a crime, sir. At Lookout Point," Parrish said, face practically aflame. "We were unable to detain him, or his presumed…companion."

"Christ, Stiles," the sheriff muttered under his breath. "I'll take it from here, Parrish. That will be all, and thanks for the head's up."

Parrish was already walking quickly down the hallway by the time John turned back to his monitor. He pulled up Parrish's report and began skimming, eyes zeroing in on any potential Stiles-related details.

Officers spotted an early model Jeep, light blue, CA license plate 6QGM387, during a routine patrol of sector 745-21A of the Beacon Hills Preserve. Location is also commonly referred to as 'Lookout Point'. Vehicle appeared to be occupied by one or more persons.

Well, John thought. That pretty much sealed the deal where Stiles' involvement was concerned. Unless someone had stolen his Jeep and Stiles had forgotten to report it. Just the idea of Stiles ignoring anything having to do with his car was laughable. John took a sip of his coffee. He grimaced at the bitterness—he was really going to have to make time to teach the new crew how to make the damn coffee—and continued reading.

Officers observed the vehicle had fogged windows and was moving in a rocking motion. Officers proceeded to exit the patrol car to further inspect the vehicle and ascertain what was going on. Music was playing at a respectable volume and the sound of one or more persons was audible, presumed to be coming from within the vehicle. The sounds were potentially lewd in nature, and the officers agreed the situation required further investigation.

The sheriff didn't know what Stiles could possibly have been thinking, going parking with someone in the damn preserve, with god knew what was lurking behind every tree in their damn town. John had already picked up his phone, hitting the speed dial for Stiles' cell, before he read any further.

Deputy Parrish tapped on the window with his flashlight to obtain the suspects' attention. A hand became visible when it reached up to wipe the condensation away from a rear window of the vehicle, and Deputy Parrish made a visual assessment of the situation. The Jeep appeared to contain two males, approximately 16-20 years of age. Neither suspect appeared to be wearing shirts. 

No further visual assessment was possible because the suspects shouted, scrambled into the front seat, started the vehicle and sped away from the scene. Officers returned to the patrol car and attempted to follow, but lost track of the vehicle. Officers believe the suspects were familiar with the preserve and knew the back roads well enough to escape pursuit.

Stiles cell rang three times before he picked up and breathlessly addressed his father. "Heyyyy, dad."

"Stiles," the sheriff said. "Care to tell me about your run in with Deputies Parrish and Sullivan earlier tonight?"

"Who, me? Nah, I've been here for hours. You can ask Danny!" Stiles said. "Um. He's been with me all night."

"All night, huh. Really." The sheriff rolled his eyes. "You sure you want to stick with that story, son? Because I'm looking at a police report that tells a very different story."

"Oh, shit. He filed a report?" Stiles said, then quickly tried to cover his tracks. "I mean, it must have been a mistake. Wasn't us. I mean, it wasn't me. But it's cool. Don't hold it against the new guy."

Whatever Stiles said next was muffled, as if he'd pressed his cell phone to his chest. When Stiles came back to the phone, John distinctly heard the sound of rapid-fire typing on a keyboard. Another voice murmured something in the background but John couldn't make out what was being said.

"Uh, dad, you might want to check that report again. Like I said, Danny and I have been studying for hours. Yep. Hitting the books, like the good kids we are."

"Stiles! The report clearly says Parrish saw _your_ Jeep at the Lookout Point. He even noted your license plate so how do you explain that?" the sheriff asked, looking back at his screen. 

This time though, the report in question was disappearing, line by line. In a matter of seconds, each field in the report was blank, and a moment later, an error message appeared on the screen. John refreshed the case log and the report he'd just been reading was nowhere to be found.

"Huh. Would you look at that. Must have been my mistake," he said, not even trying to hold back a grin so wide, he was sure Stiles could hear it over the phone."You tell Danny to come by to watch the game on Sunday. We'll do something on the grill."

After so many difficult months, hearing Stiles' laughter was music to John's ears. 

"Okay, yeah. Will do, dad. See you when you get home."

"See you soon, kid," John almost hung up, then added as an afterthought, "Oh, and Stiles?" 

"Yeah?" Stiles answered.

"We're going to have a talk about Danny having been there _all night_ when I get home."

"Well, when I said all night, I didn't mean _all night_ , if you know what I mean? You see—"

Never mind the semantics, kid. We'll talk about it later," John said, interrupting Stiles before he could really get going. "But if what I saw tonight is any indication, Danny seems like a keeper, so try not to screw things up."


End file.
